


Guns and Roses

by Yoongles_Jikook



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Angst and Drama, Attempted Murder, Bad Boy Jeon Jungkook, Bisexual Male Character, Crimes & Criminals, Cute Kim Seokjin | Jin, Dark Comedy, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Gambling, Gang Violence, Gangs, Gun Kink, Gunshot Wounds, Jeon Jungkook & Kim Taehyung | V are Best Friends, Jeon Jungkook is a Little Shit, Jikook Week, M/M, Mild Smut, Murder, Other, Partners in Crime, Poor Life Choices, Psychological Drama, References to Drugs, Serial Killers, Soft Park Jimin (BTS), Switch Jeon Jungkook, Teenage Drama, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-10-21 00:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20684483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoongles_Jikook/pseuds/Yoongles_Jikook
Summary: Cryptic gangs filled with drug dealers, and blood thirsty sinners takes over normal college student Park Jimin's life. One group in particular want something, and it isn't just the money they want. A love interest in one of the members soon arises, and Jimin finds himself in a twisted choice between a normal life, or a life between bars.





	1. Chapter 1

In a fairly small-dim light room, six boys sat across the floor, breathing heavily. At their sides lay guns and knifes and one with a look of dismay displayed across his face. He stood up and the others lay there silent, catching up with their breath, one of them clutching their chest from pain, another, with black hair like a ravens, crying softly from what looked like to be a badly broken ankle.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it thoughtfully, thinking of how he could fix an ankle, his pulsing heart, and all the mess he got his friends into. "Gang" if you were to be specific, friends was too much of a derogatory term.

Hey, is your ankle ok?" He asked the guy who held his ankle tightly like it was something he prized dearly, putting his cigarette out after three puffs he walked over to examine the ankle.

Damn. It was twisted pretty bad, he obviously needed medical attention. It went ways he didn’t even know ankles could go. But, a hospital is not exactly where they needed to be as of now. And explaining how he broke his ankle to the doctors wasn’t a option, would take too much time, and if you ran into a hospital with guns that wasn’t a good option either.

He looked up, his expression in a twist of anger and pain, mostly pain. And a little bit of all the hatred the guy knew the black haired had for him. He wanted to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be ok, but he knew he could never.

"My ankle's fucking broken... and your asking if I’m ok?!”

He winced when he raised his voice. Trying to stand he only fell, crying in a fit of pain. The tallest guy, helped him up carefully.

One of the guys on the ground laughed as if this were a comedy show.

"Look, I know your hurt but we have to keep going. Their still out there and we don't have time to sit around and wait for an "ankle" to replenish itself."

"Replenish? Do you hear yourself right now? Who gives a shit about them. Just go and leave me here."

"You know we can’t do that. It’s either this, or we can all stay in this warehouse and get shot up. Their going to come for us, regardless if they still want the money or not."

The money.

The college.

The reason all of this happened.

The reason why they almost died at the hands of a mad-man

"Hah, your funny if you think I'm going anywhere like this."

"Fine then. Stay here and fucking die for all I care."

Black hair watched as he walked off, leaving him and the others on the floor to only guess what would happen in the next span of 3 hours they had left. They couldn't just sit around waiting, guessing for the worst to happen.

"I'd rather die than go anywhere else with you.” He shouted loudly so the other could hear him. Most of it came out as more of a whimper than a demanding shout. But he didn't have a choice but to cry, did he?

Tick, Tick, Tick

The clock kept ticking in Jimin's ears as he tried listening to the professor's never-ending lecture about finals next week.

Tick, tick, tick,

The hands never stopped, always kept going. Jimin thought that if he tried focusing on what Mr. Jung said, maybe the clock noise would fade away. But it didn't, and as hard he tried to actually listen, the more Jung's word's sounded like his mom on a school night when he was 12 trying to stay up playing GameBoy.

“And that class, was a quick look through of next weeks finals. I hope you all actually studied and not procrastinated or whatever you young ones do. Finals is hard. Most people can’t pass the first question." Mr. Jung laughed, no one in the room did.

Wow, way to make people feel not nervous about the test.

Jimin had mixed feelings about finals.. He passed his courses in the previous year, now, only two more years of college left too go, but something about sophomore year to others were the hardest years. Jimin never had trouble with school though. He was pretty smart, smarter than most people his age.

"Mr. Jung, whats the test about?" Someone, a girl, he recognized asked from the back of the class. Everyone else looked pretty dead. Jung's lectures were always making people feel, if they had the option, to jump off a cliff.

Isn’t it obvious. Its clearly on the things they learned this year..if anyone ever paid any attention.

"The things you've learned this year. Designing, some business questions, all key essentials , which is why you take this class for graphics."

Jimin wanted, more like was being forced, to be a graphic designer.

It was the closest thing to fashion designing, (which he actually wanted to do but you know the whole parents don't approve story kinda thing), and the closest way to a ticket out of school. As much as he excelled, who ever said he couldn't' hate it? A school filled with snooty people, some normal , some just upright crazy really drove a person off the edge.

Graphic designing was what he didn’t want for his life, like most people he had other dreams too. Like singing and dancing, or being a Vet and taking care of animals, but of course his parents never approved of anything Jimin decided. It was either this or becoming a doctor and Jimin passed out when he saw that first glimpse of blood in medic class.

After another thirty minutes of unnecessary bull crap, the class finally dismissed early. Jimin prayed, thanking the god's for the early dismissal, and ran to catch up with his best friends who were standing in the main area by the food court waiting for wings and saving him a spot.

Today was wing day. The school offered three dollar wings from Bonchon Chicken, any kind of flavor. People went crazy over them. Who wouldn't go nuts over the chicken from Bonchon? It was for a great price.

Taemin, a pretty blonde boy with soft doll-like features and brown eyes waved when he noticed him approaching, his loose outfit, a corduroy jacket over a white T-Shirt, , jeans and black Barrett clip atop his head, made him look like he just came back from a model shoot. The other guy, Kai, a tall built guy with stronger features smiled at him. Jimin caught up, out of breath from almost running into a tree on his way over.

"Hey Jimin! Why are you breathing so heavily? Do you need some water?" Taemin offered him his from his backpack but Jimin declined.

"I--I ran here-- didn't wanna be late for wing day."

"We’re the people to high up for you too see?" Taemin asked and Jimin scowled. He knew he didn't meant it as a insult, it was just a question, Jimin agreed he was short, but it didn't mean he liked people making short jokes about him every five seconds of the day

"If I were that enthusiastic about wing day I'd be rich." Kai said, who only came because Taemin forced him too. If anything, he probably wouldn’t have met Kai if Taemin never dragged him to social events.

"Why do you hate wing day so much hyung ...It's like, the best day ever next to getting free banana milk at the gas station." Taemin asked.

Kai scoffed. "You only get it because your cute and beg the cashier who's not immune to your charms like everyone else."

Jimin rolled his eyes, his breath finally catching up with him. "You mean, "we're" cute, as in all of us. I disagree though, no one's immune to Taemin's charms."

Taemin smiled, his fluffy blond hair falling in his eyes. Jimin would kill to be as pretty as Taemin, even though the younger hated being called it.

Kai and Taemin got into a silly argument about who was "cuter." Jimin stood on his tippy-toes to peek and look at the people in front of him. Only 20 more people to get their wings and go, it took a few minutes for the wings to prepare, then it would be delicious savory goodness in his mouth by the time lunch ended.

That's when he noticed something.

A person, a lean guy, dressed in all black with dark long wavy hair that fell too his eyes, with a jacket strewn across his shoulder, he sat on the bench a couple feet away from Jimin. Usually too much of one color hurt Jimin's eyes, and who the hell wore all black in November,, but he pulled it off surprisingly well. He looked at him with an intent gaze, like he wanted something from him and was destined to get it.

Did Kai piss off another guy again?

Cause if so, it usually was Taemin they were all after...

Jimin looked behind him. Maybe he was waiting for someone, maybe he was staring off into the distance, a student here and Jimin was just being his usual paranoid self.

He crossed his legs and folded his hands on top his knee, keeping his chin in place with his thumb.. just.. starring. And for sure at him. Something about his eyes, even though Jimin couldn't focus on the color since he was a little far, unsettled him. Like his gaze took hold over his body. Jimin always disliked people who had that unsettling aura around them, like they couldn't be trusted, and that was the vibe he got from whoever the hell this person was.

Handsome. The guy is was reallyyyy good looking. Probably could or was a model, and it made it harder for Jimin to ignore him.

A couple minutes passed of obvious staring. Jimin, now annoyed, figured out the dude wanted something from him. The obvious starring got annoying, and trying to ignore him was the worst part. Until he had enough. He turned around and gave him a death stare, barking up the courage to walk up and ask him what he wanted, that is until Taemin stopped him.

"Tell Kai I'm right when I say banana milk is the best milk, it beats strawberry by 100 percent. It's nutritious, delicious, and freakin amazing."

"I don't care about your milk." He glared, rolling his eyes. “Sorry that was mean.” He apologized, then turned back too the bench, ready to strike, but the guy was gone.

"What the hell-" Jimin mumbled, looking around. "He was just here a second ago!"

"Who was here a second... ago..?" Kai asked confused. “Did you see anyone Taemin?"

“Hyung?”

Jimin scratched his head, remembering every detail.

"He was.. a guy, about Kai’s height but a little shorter. Well built frame... dark hair that went to his eyes, he even wore all black. That’s impossible not too notice. Like, don't tell me ya'll didn't see him-- OH thats right, you were too busy arguing over milk too notice how he stared at me like he wanted to axe my head off!"

Kai shrugged. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

Taemin jabbed him in the ribs.

"Ignore the frog-, are you sure the dude your describing wasn't just another one of your fantasy bad-boys you always dream about?"

“Sure sounds like one of em” Kai said through gritted teeth, still holding his stomach. “Didn’t the last one wear all black?”

"Ughh, no. I swear to my life he was a real living, breathing thing It's just odd cause he was here, and then when I looked back a second later, he left. Like he dissipated into thin air..." Jimin shrugged, sighing.

"Maybe I am just dreaming. No way in hell someone would dare wear all black in this humid ass weather unless they wanted to be roasted alive into bulgogi."

“You sure it’s not..... him?”

Jimin paused and turned around, his back to the empty bench. A stern look on his face.

“No way.”

He shivered, blocking all thoughts about last year out of his brain.

"Probably just wanted to, ya know, do the shibang."

Kai stifled a laugh at his own joke, even despite still recovering in pain from Taemin's famous "rib jab" that happened too often--

Jimin chuckled. It wasn't like a guy asking him out or for something more didn't occur. At least he was brave enough to say no to anyone who tried.

"A guy who wants to do the shiwoozy would not stare at me like I'm dog shit. No, not dog shit, a piece of diamond selling for a million bucks."

"Woah, if a guy starred at me like I was a million bucks I would never let him out of my sight." Taemin winked.

"Not like I was a million bucks minnie, like, I was the diamond he'd just use for the money and not keep for actual worth to add up too it. Understand what I mean?"

Tae nodded.

"Well, that's that." Kai said,

" If you see the guy again ask him why he was lookin, and if he tries anything tell him you have friends who will kick his ass. Or just a friend, Taemin can't lay even a finger on a rat."

"Because rats are adorable, just like mice are, you uncultured swine."

"Did we get him? Are you sure it's the right person we-"

"Target affirmative."

"Good. Give me a detailed description."

"Does it have to be all details Tae?"

"Of course it has too. How do you think we are gonna know if it's the right guy?"

Jungkook sighed, using the spikes on his jacket to file his nails while he balanced his phone on one ear. "Hazel eyes, blond hair, about 5'5, fluffy cheeks, pink lips, cherry red hoodie, ripped jeans, was waiting in line for some wing day shit-"

"Ok, ok, I get it, it's the right guy. I'll let Namjoon know the details. Keep us updated. We want good details, facts, any evidence you find, send it too us.” “Oh and also, enjoy your first day of school tommorrow~" Taheyung cooed.

The call ended, leaving Jungkook with a heavy leather jacket, 20 dollars, and a sweaty forehead. He should have taken Jin's word for it this morning when the older said it was going to be above 50, but of course Jungkook's stubborn self rarely ever listened to his hyungs, not like he ever wanted too. He played by his own rules, his own ball game.

If, that ball game consisted of wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt when it was 80 degree's outside, he would have a damn good solid win.

Walking around this college campus gave him a migraine. The smell of chicken surrounding the air, the emotion of "happy" young adults walking around, hand in hand or with their books, some reading off into a corner or cooling off under a tree, made him want to throw up. The overall feeling of euphoria brought him to a place in his life where he didn’t like to remember.

Gagging in his mouth a little at a couple happily openly kissing each other in the middle of the walkway, Jungkook walked past, ignoring the looks people gave him. Most people wished they had half the swagger, the confidence he did. Ehh, who was he kidding, people were just starring at the crazy handsome guy wearing winter clothes in hot weather.

Jin liked to say he had the seasons "backwards." Meaning he wore the opposite of clothing each season brought. Taehyung told him to try and "blend in" with the crowd if they were going to make this whole "your the youngest so you get to go to college thing" work, but he found it hard trying to fit in with people who only cared about their ego, and also had the worst, most terrible fashion sense.

Erasing the silly thoughts, he strode past, only thinking about one person in particular.

Park Jimin.

The guy his teams been looking for, for over the past couple months now. Simply because his parents had something they've been wanting for a long time.

Money.

Being apart of a gang was hard. Each member of his crew lived, or well had hard lives, some, like Jungkook, being thrown into the gang life wasn't a choice, it was a matter of "live to your parents expectations or die" sorta thing. Hurting people wasn't something Jungkook liked too do, but he felt obligated to do it. Like he had too. It wasn't as if he could quit his gang and head off to Mexico. He needed money for that.

Park Jimin's family, if not his parents, were the wealthiest people known around the area and Jungkook knew they had connections to the college. Westbrook is a wealthy school, known for its "academic" passing students, and whats more to getting money than to steal it from a school's system?

Or, get it from the source itself.

That is what his gang planned to do.Earning this money meant a new way of life. Not just for them, but for their families too. But first, they needed the main thing if they wanted to even step close to the source.

And that was Park Jimin.


	2. Chapter 2

(A year before the previous chapter began)

The blood on Jungkook's hands sat hot, the coldness of the night touching every inch of his exposed skin. He looked down, and there, lay one of his allies, one of his best friends, lifeless, still, the moon illuminating the face of the one he once called "brother."

He knew who had done this.

A gang called "The Messiah”around the area who hated his group just at much as all the other ones did. 

It was not because they weren't respected, they were one of the most well known and respected groups around. Others were jealous because they held their shit together, didn't go killing people just for fun. Knew the ropes and ends of making deals, knew how to play their cards.

Jungkook's group were a family. Not just out for blood, stood for one another, protected each other, celebrated together, drank together. Why do they think no one he knew or had allies with ever died or came close to it?

They did nothing wrong, absolutely nothing. Was this some sort of sign of conformation to show "hey, don't mess with us or we'll kill the only family you have left?" He despised other gangs that killed to show their authority over others. So killing meant being a leader? Making people suffer was being a "leader?" Trying to prove a point by murdering only showed you were weak, useless, and only used your weapon to talk.

Jungkook felt his guilt overtake his senses, but he didn't cry. The love for his brother was one of those eccentric loves, I love you but we're not really close" "I might hate you but deep down inside there's care" 

Maybe if he picked up the phone and called him, maybe just once, he could have saved his life. He never asked for his brother to become apart of this world, this life. 

He would find the one that killed him, no matter what he had to do or who he had to kill. He's had enough taken away, but this..? This was more than a murder.

Jungkook knew the gang were after the same thing they were. Money, but after someone too. It was a chance for a new, better life, so why wouldn't they take the opportunity to go after it. He would never let them get their hands on what was rightfully his, ever again. 

"If your trying to fit in, don't you think maybe you should go a little lighter on the jacket? Or maybe, just don't get a jacket at all. It's hot out and if you die of heatstroke then that's more medical bills we have to pay for.”

Jungkook went through several different choices on the clothing rack. Choices meaning the hoodies and jackets section of Hot Topic. Hobi and Jungkook were buying new "appropriate" clothes that fit the college setting, because apparently leather, shirts with very strong words and combat boots were too "emo" for Westbrook. He ignored Hobi and continued searching until he found a black hoodie with the words "Pay Me or Fucking Die" on it.

Hobi glared, pulling his mask down."Good choice-- If you wanna be expelled the first day."

The mouth masks were for keeping their identity secret, of course. Not that Jungkook's wouldn't be exposed anyways. This new look was supposed to hide his “identity.” 

Hobi had a very...distinctive fashion. He liked anything with bright colors, but he failed too realize that he was apart of a gang, and bright colors like the orange shirt he wore could lead to other potential gangs around the area recognizing them, most were cool, but others were threats. His wild fire engine hair didn't help much either.

It sucked, hiding. Not being able to show your true identity, but this was the life he had to live.

"You think I give a shit if I get expelled or not? You do know, the only reason I'm even going to some stupid prep school, is so we can kidnap some teeny bopper who likes chicken days and hangs out with a guy who looks like Rasiel from Hitman Reborn. It's a college, not some fashion show. If they don't like what I wear then they can go fuc-"

"Let’s go look at Forever 21." Hobi cut in, taking his arm and dragging him away from the tee's and the gawking customers who wondered why two guys, one dressed like a plant, and one dressed like a depressed teenager, were arguing in HT.

Walking around different stores together, Jungkook endured two hours of his members non-stop talking about literally anything. From horses, to sprite, to McDonald chicken nuggets, the guy loved to talk. The first time he met Hobi, was such a vague experience he still remembered every little detail.

"Your going to love college, trust me."

He said happily handing him a white plaid shirt, ripped skinny jeans, and converse sneakers. A basic outfit but it would have too do considering their budget wasn't very tight.

"What makes you say that...?"

"Ohh, Namjoon never told you? Before I joined I went to college in my hometown. Total blast, party's every night, girls all over my every whim, and then, this happened."

"Wow, ok, way to make me feel like I know absolutely nothing about you."

He stepped into the changing room, taking off his solid colors, and wanted to gag at his reflection when he finished. It was soo.. not him. He looked like every other 19 year-old his age. Disgusting.

"Ohh my GOSH Kookie! You could be a model! Look at you! It’s like I’m staring at another version of you! Give me a little spin!"

Jungkook threw him the middle finger. He hated the stupid nickname Hobi called him.

"Ughh, I look so gross..."

"No, I think you look fab-u-lous."

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"Umm.. how are we going to pay for all this? Did you magically grow money out your nose?"

Hobi pulled out a wallet, definitely not his, he probably took it from someone's purse in Hot Topic. Jungkook smirked and high fived him.

"How much is in it?"

"About 200 bucks. I think we hit the jackpot!! heheh, It's enough to get those cinnamon bun things at Taco Bell you like so much." He wiggled his fingers making Jungkook laugh for the first time that day.

Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

Jimin felt like dying.

Today was not a good day.

His parents paid a visit to his apartment, wanting to talk about "his future" and "doctoral" things instead of bringing him cookies and talking about his feelings about college or how he was doing in all his classes. Ya know, like some normal parents would.

Cookies would be nice

What he really wanted, was some support. All his mom and dad ever wanted to do was shove this doctor thing down his throat, when it was clear it didn't occur to think that he was taking graphic designing classes... He had absolutely no interest in whatever path they wanted for him, it was his life after all, Jimin could tell them no if he wanted too, but knowing his parent's he'd say goodbye to a college degree in seconds.

His parents were always like this though, wanting to be so controlling of his future. He made his own decisions, but when it came to the path he wanted to take he found himself.. stuck. 

Speaking of stuck,as of now, a person in class wanted to be an ass and got gum caught on his sweater. His perfectly pastel yellow sweater because an idiot decided he wanted to be "funny" and try too see how far the gum could go. 

He sat down at break under a tree, soothing his skin from the blazing hot sun. Taemin and Minho went off somewhere, and he rarely saw his other friends or they went to different schools or just didn't have classes with him. He liked being alone, though, it gave him time to think about present events or his future.

His professor asked a mind boggling question the other day, that kept Jimin up all night, and today, thinking about.

"Where do you see yourself after you graduate?"

Being entirely honest, Jimin didn't see himself with a future. If there even was one for him, it would be a darn sad one with his parents still controlling his life, unhappy, with a job he hated, and with no one to call a lover.

He rarely ever went on dates. And when he did, half the people he tried with were either total creeps or douche bags who knew his parents and only wanted him for his money, another reason why he hated being himself. The last relationship he had ended badly, just another money hungry guy with a huge ego the size of Asia.

Jimin sighed, checking the time on his phone. 

Only one more class left.

Jimin could not believe what he was seeing. His eyes were blessed the entire period of 4th.

A really cute guy who transferred from another college west, introduced himself in front of his history class, and lets be honest, the guy was not only super cute, but extremely gorgeous. He looked a little younger than the rest of the students but a lot of newer students took higher grade classes sometimes. Maybe this dude ranked high on his tests scores or something, but who cared.

Dark wavy hair, big brown eyes and a bunny smile greeted him. Even the teacher stared.

His outfit was even more to die for, a light white flannel shirt, ripped casual skinnies, a black beanie and Timberlands.

"Umm, hello." He waved awkwardly, laughing cutely moving the hair out of his eyes. Jimin found that to be so cute.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, you can just call me Kook for short. Uhh, I transferred from Changyeong Daesong just last week to find a new major. I hope you all accept me and I can't wait to graduate with you all." He sent that bunny smile again and Jimin swore he heard girls fangirling in the back the class. Oh how he wished to be one of those girls.

Someone snickered in the room, obviously one of the guys.

As soon as Jungkook went to sit down girls offered him seats next to him, like high school all over again. When girls would just go nuts over one cute dude, even if he was the worlds most classiest douche ever. Might need some toilet paper.

But instead, he sat right next to Jimin, smiling at him and offering his hand.

"I'm Jungkook, maybe we can be friends this year?"

Jimin sat there frozen for a couple seconds until the little angel in his mind told him to man up and shake the cute guys hand. He held it longer than he wanted too. Did he mention this kook kid's hands were really soft?

"Uhh yeah- me umm, me too." He grinned back. Jungkook titled his head at him.

"Oh no, I meant it like, me too like I hope we can be friends too."

He stuttered so bad he tested his own patience with words. Jimin could feel all the eyes on them. He smiled and quickly turned around in his seat, avoiding Jungkook's eyes. The last time he was like this with a dude.. he couldn't remember but it was a LONG time ago.

During the lesson he stole quick glances here and there.

Something about the guy reminded Jimin of someone. No, he looked like someone he knew, or maybe seen before. 

It was all a mystery at this point.

“First day of school went alright?”

Taehyung, two years older than him, with blond hair with glasses who dressed like a 40 year old widowed artist, waited for Jungkook outside of the building in his beat up 2007 black Chevrolet. This was his “baby”, a car Taehyung saved up for and bought for cheap from some sketchy dealer. Jungkook gruffed, stepped into the car and took off his beanie, his long hair falling into his eyes, just the way he liked it. He closed the door and Taehyung drove off. 

“You don’t have to act like I’m five years old going to kindergarten. But since your asking, it went ok. Teachers were lame, reminded me too much of high school. I had to act all prim and proper, my gosh was it torture. Didn’t get to say a single curse word! I still don’t see the point in me going here. Can’t we just tranquilize the guy? Much easier if you ask me.” 

“Did you find him?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Well, we can’t do that. We need you to get as much information on this guy as possible, maybe even become friends with him. It’s one step closer too the money, we both know it.” He turned on the radio. An old 90’s station played in the silence. 

“It was Yoongi’s idea, by the way.”

“Agree to disagree?” 

“Something like that.” Taehyung laughed looking him up and down. 

“Man, did Hobi do a good job. Really fixed you up. I barely recognize you.” 

Jungkook blew a strand of hair out his eye and slumped into his seat. 

“I barely recognize myself anymore.” 

“It looks good on you though. This new look I mean. It suits you. You don’t look half as depressed.” He stuck out his tongue. The car rickited from side to side every time he took a turn which held Jungkook holding on for dear life. Taehyung was a bad driver, he drove like he was a 70 year old with bad eye sight. But he didn’t exactly have his license either... 

He was “self taught” or so he liked to brag.

Jungkook however, did have his. His parents helped him out before things went sour between them. And when his brother died he completely cut off from them and had to fend for himself. That’s how he found his group, his friends, who all came from the same gruesome backgrounds, some, worse than other. They’d accepted him with open arms, and here he was, about to die in a Wendy’s drive through. 

“Whatchu want? I only got 30 bucks left so make it cheap.” 

He blinked and mentally slapped his forehead. Taehyung was so weird. 

“Just get me some nuggets. Get extra sauce too. Wait- nothing for the rest of the team?” 

“ILL TAKE FOUR BAGS OF NUGGETS AND A LARGE FRY. OHH AND ILL TAKE A MILKSHAKE TOO. Extra sauces too would be amazing sweetheart.” He winked at the intercom. Jungkook sworn he heard a giggle from the other end he wanted to die at that very moment. 

“That will be $12.99. So one large fry, four bags of nuggets and extra barbecue sauce?” 

“You got it babe.”

He drove up, waiting behind another car. 

“To answer your question.” He began. “Namjoon already got them japchae and rice cakes, this is the next best option, if you consider greasy food a better one.”

“Seriously? Japchae? And they leave us out dry to get gross fast food. I swear if there’s no more banana milk left I’ll call Jooheon too start a shoot out. Or even a fake drive by again just to scare them like last time.”

Taehyung laughed, his dark brimmed glasses bouncing with him. Out of all people who wore them, Taehyung really suited glasses the best. He tried getting contacts but they were either to expensive or Tae didn’t feel like paying for them.

“Drive bys are the best.” 

When they too the window, the intercom lady handed them their food and took the money, giggling when Taehyung threw her another wink. She was an average looking person. Young, brown hair, brown eyes. 

When they drove off Taehyung elbowed him. 

“Wasn’t she cute?”

Jungkoon shrugged. He really didn’t care much for relationship wise things or even romantic things, or if a girl was “cute.” He had no time for it, no girls to date and more bodies to shoot at.

“Eh, looked like every girl on the street.”

Taehyung eyed him weirdly, scoffing.

“Why is it that every time I try and talk to you about girls, you get all weird about it? You get this look in your eyes that you don’t care.”

“It’s cause I just don’t care.”

And that was the truth. 

“Yoongi loves it when I mention boobs or a women. A women’s body is a very beautiful and constructional thing.” 

“Aaaanddd this just got weird real fast. Can we just stop talking? Focus on the road more. I’m not Yoongi.”

“Whatever Kook. Once you finally get your hands on those pillowy soft things, you’ll never go back.”

They arrived just in time to hear about a gang report. 

The warehouse or “HQ”, it, sat on the edge of Seoul, hidden beneath the binds and twists of the roads. It looked beat up, dim and gray, but was fairly large and looked nothing like it did on the inside than on the outside. A person passing down the street, if they ever dared come to this part of town, would pass by it and think it to be a regular warehouse, one or those ones companies kept their storage in. But, it was much more than that.

This, was Jungkooks home. He’d lived there for half of his life, treated it like a home. It’s the only thing he could ever call home. This place rescued him, saved him on that dangerous night. 

Taehyung waited until the front gates opened, then he parked the car behind the building and hopped out, Jungkook did the same but grabbed the bags, snatching the fries from the bottom and taking a secret swig of Taehyung milkshake. 

He always liked doing this part.

The back metal doors required a passcode to open, as well as the front ones did. Ten digits, he had etched into his brain. Numbers he could never forget. 

The door sound alarmed and opened. They stepped in, the doors closing behind them. 

The building looked nothing like a warehouse on the inside, as mentioned before. It was like your modern house, except way cooler. 

There was an entryway, a kitchen, living room and an elevator that took you too four different floors. The second, being the rooms, the third, the “headquarters” and the fourth, well they rarely used that floor for anything besides storage.

Jungkook could not believe it himself when he first came here. It set unrealistic expectations of what a warehouse looked like, or that a gang could have such a place like this. But according to Namjoon, when they had first started out as a gang, they found the place on a whim and it was already like this, elevator and all. 

They hit the jackpot.

“Hey doofuses! We’re home!”

“And we got chicken nuggets! Way better than bulgogi.”

“Taehyung, shush. You know they can’t hear you.”

Taehyung pursed his lips and made his way into the elevator. Pressing the third floor they waited. 

It opened. 

It was like a different world.

The walls were metal, the flooring, a stainless steel. Big casement windows overlooked the city and it’s nightlife. Lights and pictures strung up across the walls, creating a pretty glow to the room. Desks and chairs were placed in the center, as well as one big computer and a couple laptops strewn across the emerald green couch (Hobi’s pic). A ping pong table and a gaming system were connected to a large TV mounted onto the wall, the ping pong table was in the far corner of the room. There was a door in the far corner that led to the weapons room which also needed a code. 

Jungkook smiled every time he seen all his gangs worked for. 

And no one would ever take any of this away.

Now, saying how they exactly got all of it, was a long story. Some of it being stolen, and the rest almost paid for. Tae was a really good briber and very persuasive.

Kim Namjoon, the leader, sat at the computer probably cracking codes, his natural brown hair faded into a short cut matched well with his outfit, a long oversized gray shirt and gray sweatpants. (Not all gangs wore tight leather pants and jackets.) He was the tallest of the group, 5”11 and literally scare away any other gangs with his height. He seemed intimidating, but was an actual sweetheart once you got to know him. He cared for very simple things, like sweet smelling candles and romantic dinners, and might seem like a softy, but was a literal mastermind. Joon could make up a bomb that could infiltrate Korea in less than two seconds. He was the first one to “found” the gang or have it started. His home life consisted of his sister, mother and an absent father who resented him because of his intelligence. Part of the reason why he dropped out of school and started getting into the “sketchy business” was to raise money for his struggling mother. All of his smarts thrown away because his mother couldn’t pay for college or schooling funds. 

Next, Min Yoongi, aka Suga, a mint haired (Jungkooks dare) guy slept on the couch with music blaring from earbuds. Yoongi was the “willed” one of the group. Meaning he was a total badass with a savage attitude. He really didn’t care about much but sleeping or when it was his time to kick ass. He could be sweet, when he wanted too, kind of like a grandfather looking after stupid teenagers. Not saying all he did was sleep, but he contributed greatly to the group when it came to learning facts or needing to produce new data. He loved playing basketball. He wanted to become a producer, and make music but his dreams fell short when he learned that his grandmother who raised him and whom he lived with, fell sick and died of a disease. His mother and father left him alone or the streets after finding out about his passion for wanting to pursue music instead of becoming a doctor, like they wanted him to be. He left and found Namjoon, who helped him get back on his feet. 

Jung Hoseok, aka Hobi,, talked on the phone with one of his other friends. Red haired and wild with big hazel eyes and a charming smile, he was the “talker” who found out dirt and any info he could about other groups, people who wanted to hurt them, new intel on deals, the ins and outs of Seoul, and basically anything information related. He loved to talk and equally loved to make other people’s days brighter. He reminded Jungkook of a Sun, bringing light too anyone and anything standing in the room. He had his serious moments, and when it came down to Business, he got it done. He was the most forceful one of the group, believe it or not, but when someone hurts his friends, he’s always there. His parents were successful owners of a clothing company (which explained his amazing sense of fashion and balencegia bags) who didn’t know anything about Hobi being in a gang or apart of one. It was like he lived this big double life, always lying to his parents about his occupation and where-about a. He hates talking about it when someone mentioned or bought it up. Jungkook didn’t just see why he couldn’t tell them the truth but telling your parents you were apart of something that could leave you dead is not exactly the thing most want to hear. 

And last but not least, his best friend Kim Taehyung, blonde headed and standing right next to him holding a bag of nuggets, came from a very similar situation like Jungkook’s. A lot of graphic stuff happened. He didn’t like to talk about it and neither did Kook. Very artsy and crafsty, he could muster up anything they needed built. He had his own little studio, and painted sometimes when he got bored. 

His little group.  
His friends.  
His family.

“So.”

They all turned and stared except for Yoongi who slept peacefully through all the noise, and Namjoon who didn’t care enough to look away from the computer.

“Which one of you assholes told Jinsol we challenged him to a fight tommorow?”

Namjoons head popped up.

“What?” He asked. Jungkook had the same question.

Jinsol, the leading member of “WestBumgogiboys” (idiot name) always had to have some kind of fued with other gangs around. The crips and bloods never messed with him, they’d just be wasting their time, and no one wanted to get their members shot at. 

Taehyung tapped his foot impatiently. Namjoon rasied his hand.

“In my defense, I didn’t say anything. But I heard Yoongi over the phone earlier saying something about a cash prize, winner takes all. Gets the whole group, gadgets and everything. Not saying we should though, because we most certainly won’t.” 

“Ughh, hyung that’s just great. Now if we don’t show up their going to get mad and then we’re gonna have another enemie to worry about. I love Yoongi but why can’t he just keep his pie hole shut sometimes? He rarely talks but when it’s about shooting or fighting he spits out like he’s rapping a verse!”

Hobi laughed his nasally laugh.

“He was gonna become a rapper before this, so it makes sense.”

Taehyung started eating his nuggets. Jungkook tried sitting down on a chair but was stopped by everyone ogling him.

“What?”

Namjoon snickered. Hobi winked. Taehyung rolled his eyes.

The clothes obviously.

“You look like you just stepped out of Vogue Weekly. And timberlands?”

“I actually like them.”

Namjoon stared.

“Their cool and nice for a change. But you should all know, blacks my color. I won’t stay in this as long as I have too.”

“I’m just glad Jungkook’s stepping out of his comfort zone. It’s better than his usual depressing outfit choices. Much cleaner, suits him for his age.”

“Can we stop talking about this before I shoot all of you?”

They all laughed. 

“Anywayssssss” Hobi grabbed a nugget. 

“First day of college? Any hot girls? Surprised you didn’t bring any home.”

Before Jungkook could answer with a snarky remark, an notification sounded off on the computer. They all ran too it, even Yoongi who woke up dreary eyed and confused.

“What is it?”

Namjoon read it carefully and then cursed. 

“Not good. Jooheon just informed me that messiah’s started a new deal with another group around here.” He studied the message again and cursed, loudly this time. “Apparently it’s the same deal we made.”

Hobi gasped.

“Your joking.. right?”

The look on Namjoons face said otherwise. 

This was bad. Really, really bad.

“So wait,” Jungkook said, “that means they— their after the same thing, err, same person too?” 

The deal, the money. Jimin.

He shook his head in fury.

“What’s worse is they already have a lead on him. Jinsol’s apart of it too, a member from his gang, his group seems to be very close with Jimin. Like close as a best friend. It’s not good.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you know what this means Jungkook?”

Jungkook tensed. His mind wavering. He but his nails.

“We need to get him fast, faster than lighting. You need too get close to him quickly before the other guy, or girl does. It’s only a matter of time before they close the deal before we do. And that can’t end good for us. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“Please, Jungkook, we’re counting on you. Just remember, whatever you do. Don’t get too attached.”

“What do you mea-”

Before he could say it, Namjoon, Hobi, and Yoongi were already out the door.

“Where are they going?”

“Probably too meet up with Jooheon to discuss things. Nothing special. Their gonna take care of it. When they need us they’ll call. Besides, I think you have some studying too do?”

He grinned.

Attached? What did Namjoon mean by getting attached? 

No way he would ever get that way to someone the way he was with his group. No one was and would ever be that special.


End file.
